


Thirsty

by drwhorose



Series: Needs/Desires [2]
Category: True Detective
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-13
Updated: 2015-01-13
Packaged: 2018-03-07 08:53:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3168902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drwhorose/pseuds/drwhorose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rust's desire to start drinking again causes Marty to urge him to seek other interests.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thirsty

Rust woke up, lips dry, throat scratchy. He stretched on the couch and adjusted the pillow under his head. 

"Mornin', sunshine." Marty was dressed in a suit for work. He was clean shaven and smelled slightly of a musky cologne. He whistled to himself as he entered the living room.

Rust rolled his eyes at Marty's whistling and general cheer. Marty chuckled in response. He sat on the couch trying to avoid sitting on Rust's legs, which were curled inward. Marty realized then that Rust was a man who looked good even when he first woke up in the morning. Nothing could dull those striking blue eyes, even if he looked like a disheveled mess. 

"You doin' all right?" Marty inquired, his eyes filled with their usual concern. 

Rust cleared his throat. "Just thirsty is all." 

Marty looked at Rust carefully. "I'll get you a cold glass of water."

Rust shook his head. "You know what I want." He stared into Marty's eyes, trying to intimidate him.

Marty stood up. "Damn it, Rust, you can't get started on all that drinking shit again!" His face was red with anger and annoyance.

Rust's face was flushed. "I need-"

"Like hell, you need it!" Marty cut him off.

Rust stood up in seconds, and he was in Marty's face. Marty took a step back, caught off guard by Rust's recent improvement in strength. Rust took a step forward, closing the distance between them.

"Shit, Rust, you trying to scare me or something?" Marty spoke softly yet forcefully. "I fuckin' care about you, you crazy son of a bitch."

Rust fell silent. He took Marty's shoulder in his right hand, his intense gaze directed at the carpeted floor. 

"Rust," Marty sighed.

Rust put a finger to Marty's lips. He pulled Marty in closer and kissed him. It was a soft kiss, yet powerful. Rust sucked Marty's lower lip, and slid his tongue inside of a warm mouth. Marty grunted and grabbed onto Rust's back tightly. Rust ended the kiss as abruptly as it began. Most of their kisses were passionate but brief. He sat back on the couch, his energy already spent. Rust ignored his burning desire, the warmth that started in his stomach and led to lower places. He had been denying his body pleasure from another person for longer than he could remember. This was not the right time, as much as he wanted to tear off the suit Marty was wearing. Not while his mind screamed for a beer or twelve. 

Marty took off his tie and tossed it on the couch.

"I'll go to work a little later." 

Rust raised an eyebrow in response.

"I am going to find you something to do, stay in this goddamn house, and I'll be back in a few." Marty leaned over and ran his fingers through Rust's messy long hair. He left the room to shuffle some items around in the kitchen and then returned to the living room.

Rust watched Marty get his car keys and wallet before heading out the door. Rust stood up and tidied the couch, folded the blankets, and set them under the pillow. He wandered around the living room and went to explore the kitchen. He drank a few sips of water from a glass Marty had left for him on the kitchen table. Next to the glass were a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, and an ashtray. Rust tore out a cigarette, and lit it as he held it between his lips. He desperately searched the cabinets for any sign of alcohol, hoping that Marty had forgotten about one bottle. He found nothing. Rust pulled his hair back, cigarette held tightly in his mouth. He searched the refrigerator, but it had nothing Rust was seeking. Marty had been thorough when he had cleaned out the booze.

Rust, feeling defeated, returned to the couch in the living room. He finished the cigarette, leaving its remains in the ashtray he had brought from the kitchen. Just as he lit up another cigarette, he heard Marty at the door, his key opening the lock.

"Maybe this will keep you busy." Marty brought over two paper bags and set them on the couch next to Rust.

Rust, curious, although trying his best to appear uninterested, opened one of the bags. There were oil paints, canvases, a sketch pad, charcoal, and pencils of all sorts inside. His eyes brightened, betraying the solemn look on his face. Marty smiled.

"I do have to head into work though, working on an another adultery case. So many cheating men out there."

Rust laughed a little, smoke escaping his lips. "Glad it's finally paying off for you."

"Shut the fuck up," Marty said with an uncomfortable laugh. "I'll be back later. I expect to see some artwork when I get home."

Rust pulled out the sketch pad and studied it closely. "I haven't drawn anything in a long while."

"You sure had a talent for it, let me tell you. Even if you drew some creepy shit sometimes." Marty picked up his tie and put it back on. Rust watched him tie it carefully around his neck.

"You look good in a suit." Rust observed. "I should draw you some time."

Marty blushed instantly. A compliment from Rust was rare but always sincere. "Maybe later."

Rust nodded. His cheeks hollowed as he took another drag from his cigarette. He dropped it into the ashtray, ready to explore the art supplies. He pulled the pencils from the bag. Marty smiled, glad that his idea seemed to interest Rust. 

"See you later." Marty walked over to Rust. He bent over to kiss his cheek. Rust took Marty by the chin and kissed him on the lips. 

"Go on now." Rust whispered. "I've got work to do."

A few hours had passed, and Rust had filled the living room with sketches and a small painting. He stretched, reaching his arms over his head, and then decided to take a shower. He changed into fresh clothing, a white t-shirt and faded blue jeans. He looked in the mirror and studied his aging face. He placed a finger over his mustache, seeing if it improved him any. Rust tied his hair back to get the wet strands away from his face. He took out a razor, and without thinking about it too much, he shaved off the stubble on his cheeks and the mustache on his face.

The doorbell rang. Rust dried off his clean shaven face and headed toward the front door.

"Who is it?" He asked, unsure of who would be visiting during the early afternoon. 

"It's Audrey."

Marty's daughter, Rust thought to himself. He had liked Marty's girls. They had always been kind to him, for whatever reason; he had no idea.

"Come in." Rust opened the door and let Audrey in the house.

"Mr. Cohle?" Audrey smiled, but her eyes were curious. "What are you doing here?"

"Call me Rust, now, Audrey. I already feel older than the bayou." Rust closed the front door. "I live here, for now at least. Your dad was worried about me after I woke up from that coma."

"Sometimes my dad works from home, so I try to visit him when I can. It's been about a month since I stopped by. Guess I should have called first." Audrey looked around the living room awkwardly waiting for Rust to offer her a place to sit. Rust stared at the floor in response. Audrey decided to sit on a chair near the couch. She had always found Rust to be a strange and quiet man with a secret in his head, but there was something kind in him. She had known it when she was a child.

Her eye caught the sketches on the table and the painting drying on the floor. "Did you do these?"

Rust nodded. 

"These are beautiful." Audrey looked through the sketches. She studied the painting of a small girl, surrounded by warm light. "Who's this?"

"That's my little girl." Rust replied. "I like to call these pieces, my coma period."

Audrey looked down. "I'm sorry, Rust. I didn't-"

"I'm not sorry, not sorry I knew her, even if it was for a short time." Rust returned his gaze to the carpet.

"So my dad, he's doing ok?" Audrey said to break the silence.

"Seems fine to me."

"I just worry about him, sometimes. I hope he's not lonely. Mom has someone, and well, Dad seems to be on his own. I know it's sort of his own fault, but-"

"Well, he has me to worry about for the time being."

Audrey smiled at Rust, noting how different he looked from all those years ago when he would visit her parents. Time had taken a toll on him, but there seemed to be some sort of peace or acceptance in his eyes. She returned the sketches to the table. "I would love to help you sell some of these, if you wanted to, that is."

"Some of them aren't for sale, but," Rust looked over at Audrey, "I wouldn't mind making some extra cash, help pull my weight around here for Marty."

"Great. I know someone who owns an art gallery in town. I can take care of all the details for you when you have your collection together." She clapped her hands together in excitement.

"You really are an adult now, aren't you, Audrey?" Rust observed, feeling proud for Marty.

Marty opened the door with a white plastic bag on his arm. "Hey, Rust, let me see what you...Audrey! So nice to see you, sweetheart."

Audrey ran over to her father and gave him a hug. She had learned to appreciate him more after almost losing him. After Audrey ended the hug, Marty turned to look at Rust.

"Hey, you shaved. I was just starting to get attached to that facial hair of yours." Marty noted with a smile. "You look good, Rust. Damn good."

Audrey watched Marty's eyes light up when he looked over at Rust, who was trying desperately not to smile at her father. She looked at Rust, and saw that he was blushing ever so slightly in his cheeks. A smile was hidden in his face somewhere.

"I better get going, Dad." Audrey interrupted the silence, as Marty and Rust stared at each other intensely.

Marty broke his eye contact with Rust and looked at his daughter. "Stay for dinner, Audrey."

"I really can't, Dad. I have a date tonight." She grinned.

"Oh, well, have fun. Maybe next time you can have dinner with me and Rust."

"I'd like that." Audrey looked over at Rust and then back at her father.

Audrey picked up her purse. She hugged her father tightly and then she walked over to Rust, and hugged him, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Rust smiled when she waved goodbye to them as she went out the front door.

"These drawings are gorgeous, Rust." Marty said after watching Audrey get into her car. 

"Audrey said she can help me sell some when I get a collection of them together." Rust informed.

"Is that so? My daughter. She really has turned out all right."

Rust nodded. "I'd still like to draw you."

Marty sat next to Rust on the couch. "And I'd like to take you to my bed." He spoke softly into Rust's ear.

Rust's eyes widened. He shifted on the couch, moving slightly closer to Marty.

"I brought you something else, in case you get tired of water." Marty reached for the bag on the floor.

"Sweet tea." Rust grinned, after opening the bag. "Love this shit."

"I thought so." Marty placed the jug onto the coffee table.

Rust wrapped his arms around Marty and began to kiss his neck. Marty brought his hands to Rust's waist and started to lift his shirt upward. Rust moved back, allowing Marty to pull the tight white t-shirt over his head. Marty stared at Rust's chest, and his eyes drifted to the scar that stretched down his tight stomach. He paused as he studied Rust's tattoo, which seemed to accentuate the muscles in his arm.

"Uh, Marty, you ever been with a man before?" Rust asked quietly.

Marty shook his head. "No...have you?" He looked over at him shyly.

Rust nodded slowly. "Back in my investigative days, back before I ever knew you. Had to go to gay bars once in a while."

"Holy shit." Marty rubbed the back of his head.

"Wasn't bad. I couldn't keep some of those guys away from me. Who knows why. I never acted interested." Rust looked away from Marty. "Got quite a few blowjobs." He said matter of factly.

Marty choked in surprise. "Well, shoot, you were fuckin' gorgeous back in your day. Still look good now, if you ask me."

"Don't bullshit me, Marty." Rust shot him a look. 

"I need you to shut up, Rust. You're killing my hard on."

Rust held back a smile as he pressed a kiss to Marty's forehead. Marty stood up as he took Rust's hand.

"Bedroom is this way." Marty opened the door to his room after leading Rust down the hall.

Rust was silent, as requested, and sat on the bed. Marty sat next to him, and began to kiss Rust's shoulders. He moved his lips down his tattooed arm, as if he were trying to taste the ink. When he had reached his wrist, Marty brought his mouth up to Rust's chest.

"Your skin is so smooth," Marty observed softly. He kissed until he found a nipple and licked it as he slid his hand over the jagged line of the scar on his abs down to Rust's pants. Rust moaned softly in response.

"Take those off." Marty ordered. Rust slid out of his jeans and boxers quickly and then peeled off his socks. 

"You look like a pervert keeping all your clothes on, after you made me take off all mine," Rust pointed out. He took off Marty's jacket, undid the tie, and then tore his shirt open. Buttons rolled on the floor while Rust lifted the white undershirt over Marty's head.

"You don't waste no time." Marty laughed nervously. "I kinda liked that shirt."

Rust ignored him as he undid the zipper on Marty's dress pants. Marty stepped out of his pants and slid his blue boxers onto the floor. 

Rust sat on the bed, patiently waiting for Marty as he took off his socks. He was clearly aroused, but a serene expression was on his face. "We don't have to do anything you don't want to." 

Marty took in a breath. He had never found a man truly attractive until he had met Rust. "Lord help me, I wanna do something to you."

Marty sat on the bed and kissed Rust's neck hungrily. Rust slid his hands down Marty's chest and warm soft belly, and then took Marty's cock in his hand, which led to a grunt of surprise and pleasure. Rust rubbed him up and down, squeezing him gently, listening for even the subtlest of moans and sighs. 

"Fuck, Rust." Marty's eyes were beginning to roll back. Marty reached for Rust and began to stroke him in return, hoping to give him the same pleasure he was feeling right now. Rust groaned into Marty's shoulder; the beads of sweat there felt cool on his face.

Moments later, Marty came with a grunt of a shout. "Oh, Rust..., fuck, that was good." 

Marty managed to keep his hand on Rust's cock, stroking and squeezing until he felt Rust come quietly and his body go slack. 

"Was that good for you?" Marty wondered aloud, his filter for words was gone for the moment as waves of pleasure went through his body.

Rust was quiet at first, pausing for a moment. It had been too long since anyone had touched him, kissed him, pleasured him. "Hell, yes."

"I do hope you realize that you will be sleeping in my bed from now on." Marty fell back on the bed, taking Rust down with him.

"I don't know if I have the stamina." Rust teased, turning on his side to get a better look at Marty.

"Well, some nights, I just like to cuddle." Marty joked, laughter escaping from his lips.

"Shut the fuck up." Rust took a pillow from the bed and whacked Marty on the arm with it.

"If you wanna get cleaned up, I'm gonna make us a little supper." Marty sat up in the bed.

Rust looked over at Marty. He had a fine body, just fit enough, although the past accumulation of beers was evident in his belly. Rust loved all he saw.

"Got some gumbo I froze last week. You hungry?" Marty stroked Rust's arm, sliding his fingers over the curve of his bicep. He wanted to squeeze his arm, but he stopped himself.

Rust nodded his response.

"Shit, Rust, you can talk now."

Rust nudged Marty's hip with his foot. "What do you want me to say?"

Marty ran a hand over his thinning hair. "You like irritating me, don't you?"

Rust smiled. "Yes, I do."

"Well, you're lucky you're so damn fine to look at. Get cleaned up for supper. I'm gonna wash up and start heatin' up the gumbo. Gotta have something to go with that sweet tea." Marty leaned over and rubbed his hand across Rust's smooth tan chest almost impulsively. Marty had no control when Rust wore nothing at all.

Rust sat up in the bed after Marty left the bedroom. Thoughts drifted in his mind. He had some art to make, especially if Audrey was going to help him sell it. He wanted to do his share, especially if he was going to be staying at Marty's much longer than previously intended. He had to learn more about Marty's body, discover the many different ways to pleasure him, to make him shiver and moan in his arms. Rust was still thirsty, probably always would be, but his mind was on other things now.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I am considering adding one more story to this series.


End file.
